Every project’s a survival story — some just involve fewer wolves.
Lately? A delicate balance between writing, surviving, and pretending my backlog isn’t plotting against me. Between documenting digital frostbite in The Long Dark, evading aliens in Isolation Protocol, and trying not to crash another truck in SnowRunner, I’ve been expanding the Survivor Incognito multiverse — one respawn at a time.
(The chaos continues — catch the full journey over at Survivor Incognito.)
What’s something most people don’t know about you?
Most people don’t know that I’ve survived blizzards, alien oceans, cannibal islands, and haunted tunnels — all without leaving the couch. My idea of adventure usually involves a save file, a thermos of coffee, and a strong Wi-Fi connection. Real-life survival? No thanks. I’ll stick to respawnable chaos and digital wolves.
(Plenty more virtual survival stories waiting to be told over at Survivor Incognito.)
“They said ‘force Charles into a fight.’ They didn’t mention the choreography involved.”
⚙️ Survival Status: 3 Strikes Total Only Charles can take them away.
Each egg restores a lost strike — but I can’t exceed three.
When the last one’s gone, the run ends.
The Setup — Make ‘Em Fight (And Don’t Get Toasted)
After being told I need to force Charles into a fight to the death, I set out to meet the island’s next eccentric resident — a man who clearly enjoys watching things burn. Sgt. Flint greets me in front of his flaming house, which raises more questions than I’m willing to ask.
I find a water tank above his home, twist the valve, and douse the flames. That act of charity apparently doubles as an invitation, because I soon hear the dulcet, horrifying blare of Charles’ horn in the distance. I sprint for my train, ready for chaos — but he never shows. Either I scared him off or he’s waiting for a better entrance. Flint, unbothered, rewards me with his experimental weapon: the Bug Sprayer. Which, of course, is a flamethrower.
Round One — The Firestarter
Not long after, I get my wish: Charles charges in for our first real showdown. I juggle the Bug Sprayer and machine gun — one setting him ablaze, the other perforating his ego. It’s messy, loud, and absolutely glorious. Charles retreats after taking enough damage, and for the first time since stepping onto this cursed island, I feel like I’ve actually won something.
With the immediate threat gone and my train held together by scrap and spite, I decide to take advantage of the quiet. Time to meet the locals — and, inevitably, their problems.
Islanders & Errands — The To-Do List Grows
Island socialising here is just a series of fetch quests disguised as introductions. Everyone has a task, and apparently, I’m the errand boy.
Theodore — far too well-dressed for a place that’s one bad day away from Mad Max. Wants a box recovered from a railcar in a nearby canyon. Bandits guard it. I politely file that under “later.”
Santiago — prepping to leave the island as soon as rescue arrives, but he’s left his journal at home. Add another fetch quest to the growing pile.
John Smith — working on a rocket launcher (finally, someone useful). Needs me to collect the rocket ammo from a nearby bunker. That immediately jumps to the top of the list.
Greg — appears to have misplaced his clothing and sense of urgency. Used to work for the mine owner and warns that if the eggs hatch, there’ll be three more Charles-like horrors running around. He hands me the key to the second mine. Great. Just what I needed.
So far, my to-do list looks like this:
Collect rocket ammo from the bunker (top priority — rocket launcher > everything else).
Retrieve Theodore’s box from the canyon railcar (expect bandits).
Fetch Santiago’s journal from his house (return it before he reconsiders leaving).
Investigate the second mine (Greg’s key in hand, nerves not included).
Next Stop — The Bunker
With Charles licking his wounds somewhere in the wilderness, I make my way toward the bunker where John Smith’s rocket ammo supposedly waits. The island is eerily quiet now — no horn, no tracks shaking, just the wind and my engine’s occasional complaint. Perfect time to loot everything not nailed down and add more scrap to my emergency stash.
I haven’t seen Charles again since our fight, but I know he’s out there. Watching. Waiting. Probably still smouldering a little.
Log Observations & Survival Notes
Scrap is life: It’s your health, armour, and upgrade material all in one. Pick up every piece you see — it’s never enough.
Weapon swapping works: Flamethrower to make Charles back off, machine gun for consistent hits. Alternate, repair, survive.
Speed upgrades are essential: The faster your train, the smaller your funeral.
Quiet moments lie: If you don’t hear Charles, it’s because he’s planning something.
Pro Tips (Apex Rookie Friendly)
Always keep scrap handy — repairs and upgrades are instant, but you’ll burn through metal faster than ammo.
Mark every quest on your map. It’s easy to get lost between rail spurs and regret.
The Bug Sprayer is for Charles only. Do not waste fuel showing off. It’s not that kind of game.
When Charles retreats, use that window to explore. The peace never lasts long.
Need a guide? Explore every stop, scrap pile, and spider sighting with the Aranearum Island Map Guide — your unofficial atlas to surviving the rails.
Do lazy days make you feel rested or unproductive?
Honestly? Rested and unproductive — it’s a two-for-one deal. Some days I need to recharge, and other days I just stare at the screen pretending to plan my next move in whatever survival game I’m currently obsessed with. The trick is accepting that even survivors need downtime. After all, you can’t outrun wolves, mutants, or hunger if you’re running on empty.
(Plenty of productive procrastination happening over at Survivor Incognito.)
SnowRunner Survival: The Permagear Diaries – Day 14: Suspension Trials & Chevy Rescue Plans
Frank’s New Legs
With Frank’s brand-new raised suspension fitted, I decide today’s the day to finish up The Essentials. One small problem: Frank’s pointing the wrong way. The boulder-clearing job from before opened a fresh path, so I follow it — partly to see where it goes, partly to avoid the awkward Austin Powers-style manoeuvring. It leads me to something familiar: another Chevrolet, the very same model I started my SnowRunner journey with.
The Stranded Chevy
I park Frank up alongside and jump in for a look. It’s going to need some upgrades before it’s worth driving… and then I notice the real problem. It’s in no state to move at all — repairs come first. That makes this a job for Red. For now, I hop back into Frank, wiggle the wheel a few times, and get him facing the right way back toward the garage.
Warehouse Run
Back at the garage, I remember there’s a warehouse in this region with wooden planks. That’s exactly what I need for the farm delivery, and it’s perfect for two reasons: 1. I can see exactly how much fuel Frank burns on a long run. 2. I can avoid those soul-draining loading screens from switching regions.
The road’s a good test for the new suspension too. Frank does take a couple of damage points — entirely my fault for forgetting to flick on AWD — but otherwise glides over the bumps. By the time we reach the warehouse, the fuel gauge says I’ve burned about 45–50 litres. Not bad at all.
Planks on Board
I load Frank up with the planks and set off toward the farm, confident the suspension upgrade was worth every bolt.
The trip back is uneventful until I reach the flooded road leading to the farm. I spot an unflooded road I could have taken… and promptly ignore it, because this is a perfect water test for Frank. The difference is night and day compared to before — he still struggles a little, but nothing like the swamp-crawling misery of old. The planks are dropped off, and The Essentials is finally complete.
Hungry Workers, Hungrier Roads
With Frank proving himself, I decide to tackle the Hungry Workers task next. Back to the garage for a full tank, then back to the farm for consumables. The road isn’t exactly Frank’s favourite terrain, but we reach the Drilling Site in one piece — and ding! Rank 6 unlocked.
That means one thing: new tyres. All we have to do is get back to the garage.
The Italian Job (SnowRunner Edition)
On the way back, I take an alternate route. Frank decides this is the perfect time to audition for a role in a remake of The Italian Job. One quick winch later, and I save him from early retirement.
Back at the garage, I reward him with a fresh set of All-Terrain Tyres — the perfect ending to a busy, productive day.
When you think of the word “successful,” who’s the first person that comes to mind and why?
Anyone who’s managed to survive a week in The Long Dark without falling through the ice, accidentally eating raw meat, or setting their only pair of socks on fire. Success isn’t yachts or millions — it’s persistence, problem-solving, and remembering to save your coffee for emergencies.
(Plenty of practical, caffeine-fuelled success stories at Survivor Incognito.)
Someone who doesn’t raid your supply cache, lure predators to your cabin, or build a base two feet from your fishing hut. In the real world, I’ll settle for someone who says hi, respects quiet hours, and doesn’t set off fireworks at 2 a.m. Basically, the opposite of every NPC I’ve ever met in a survival game.
(Plenty more tips for surviving neighbours — human and otherwise — at Survivor Incognito.)
Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 2: The Depths of Progress
Difficulty: Survival (Steam Deck Survival) Optional Features: Grav Trap Deployed for Science and Snacks
“Silver is rarer than common sense on this planet.”
After yesterday’s fire-fighting and frantic crafting, I started the day with a new radio message: Lifepod 17 had also crashed somewhere nearby — right next to the Seamoth Bay, apparently. But priorities are priorities, and since Lifepod 3 radioed me first, they got first rescue attempt.
Priorities, Podcasts, and PDAs
Lifepod 3 wasn’t exactly a rescue success.
I did, however, find a blueprint for a compass — the kind of thing that makes you wonder why your pod didn’t come with one pre-installed. I added it straight to the “to-craft-once-I-can-see-straight” list, along with a PDA I’ll read later when I’m not holding my breath underwater. No survivors… unless you count me, which I do, enthusiastically.
Back at my pod, I realised something important: I can’t see a damn thing once it gets dark. So I finally crafted a torch — apparently the galaxy’s most underrated invention — along with a survival knife because there’s nothing like a little sharp-edged comfort in an ocean full of unknown lifeforms.
Lifepod 17 and the Great Seamoth Discovery
Next stop: Lifepod 17.
Predictably, it was another empty seat arrangement, but I did strike technological gold — enough Seamoth fragments to unlock the blueprint. I just need a Mobile Vehicle Bay now, which sounds easy enough until you remember I’m surviving on cooked bladderfish and spite.
While exploring the wrecks, I also found the last few materials to upgrade my O₂ tank. More air equals more curiosity, and more curiosity usually equals more trouble, so that’s a win all around.
Incoming Messages and Explosive Warnings
Just as I was feeling productive, I got a new transmission — this time from the Sunbeam. They wanted a response, but my comms system is, and I quote, “irreparably damaged.” Translation: I’m talking to myself for the foreseeable future.
With no one to call and no Netflix subscription in sight, I built a Grav Trap and tossed it outside the Lifepod to watch it work. Instant sushi buffet. Fish helplessly drawn into an invisible vortex of doom. It’s oddly soothing.
Science in Motion
Full gameplay log below — forty minutes of exploration, crafting, and the occasional panic swim. Featuring Grav Trap testing, Lifepod 17 dives, and my ongoing battle with visibility and oxygen management.
Watch on YouTube
I even had enough parts for a Rebreather, further extending my underwater escapades. Everything was going fine… right up until the PDA told me the Aurora will explode in approximately two hours.
Sure. Two hours to stop a planet-sized reactor meltdown with nothing but a knife and optimism. Sounds totally achievable.
Silver, Sunbeam, and Sinking Realisations
I spent the rest of the day chasing one thing: silver. I’d convinced myself it didn’t exist anymore, that I’d mined the planet dry earlier. But after far too many dives and muttered curses, I finally found some glimmering salvation among the sandstone outcrops.
Back at the Lifepod, another message awaited — the Sunbeam again. They’ve spotted the wreckage of the Aurora and are coming to investigate. They’ll be here within the week.
So not all doom and gloom then. Just mild existential dread… and a new compass freshly crafted to help me get lost in the right direction next time.
Probably resting before a new survival run instead of diving in half-prepared with three sips of coffee and misplaced confidence. Or maybe trying permadeath in something not designed to punish me for breathing wrong. Then again, chaos and curiosity tend to win… so let’s be honest, I’ll probably just try another custom mode instead.
(Plenty of first-time chaos — and second attempts — over at Survivor Incognito.)
Adapt, endure, and laugh through the chaos. Whether it’s a snowstorm in The Long Dark or life deciding to throw curveballs, I’ve learned to keep moving, keep learning, and never take the disasters too seriously. Survival — in games or reality — isn’t about perfection. It’s about persistence… and maybe having a spare cup of coffee ready.
(Plenty more survival principles — and caffeine-fuelled persistence — at Survivor Incognito.)
Survivor Incognito 